[Chapter 315. Calculations]

The rest of the flight passed in an awkward silence until the drone landed right in front of the next dungeon. A faint mist hung in the air around the crumbling stone archway, framing the blue vortex of the portal that stood within it. The archway looked entirely out of place on this open field of green grass and occasional shrubs. Iris and the women pulled up the dungeon's information. In the next moment, Carmen and Vanessa turned toward Searanox, their faces pale in the gloomy light filtering through the slight haze.

"It's a level thirty dungeon," Carmen said, her voice steady, but her eyes betraying her concern.

"Will she be able to clear it alone?" Vanessa added, her gaze flickering between the intimidating entrance and the beast-kin standing before it.

"I'm more than certain that she is able to clear it by herself," Searanox answered, dismissing his three travel drones with a casual flick of his wrist. The metallic forms dissolved into motes of light, leaving them standing in the silence of the dungeon's threshold.

Iris bowed lightly before she turned toward the portal and stepped forward to enter. Searanox's hand came down on her shoulder, stopping her. His grip was firm but not harsh.

"Not yet, dear. How is your mana? And most importantly, how rested are you?" His voice was low, his eyes scanning her face with an intensity that made her fur stand on end.

She turned around and looked into his eyes, her tail swishing nervously behind her. "I'm fine. My mana is mostly full, and I feel great." Despite her words, a faint flicker of exhaustion crossed her features before being quickly suppressed.

"Mostly great won't do. I want you in top shape before you enter the dungeon. Take a rest and eat something. If it were a lower level, I wouldn't stop you." His gaze remained locked with hers, unwavering.

"But I feel fine—" she began to protest, her claws extending slightly with frustration.

"Iris, I saw you use the bracer in the fight against the dragon. I won't let you enter with half of your mana." The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

"H-how did you know? You shouldn't have a skill that grants you that level of insight." Her voice trembled slightly—a rare crack in her usually composed demeanor—as she stared at him with widened silver eyes. The turquoise on her Eldritch Zweihänder seemed to pulse in response to her sudden anxiety.

Searanox let go of her shoulder and brought out his foldable chair, the metallic components clicking softly as it locked into place. "You have been using your skills not just in rapid succession during the boss fight, but also on our way toward it. If I had to guess, your skills consume about forty to fifty mana per use. Factoring your regeneration into it, you are below half—at most, you are exactly at half." His voice remained steady, as if discussing market prices rather than his companion's resources.

"You calculated my mana by simply watching me..." Iris's voice trailed off, her silver eyes wide with disbelief. Her claws retracted slightly as she processed the revelation. The thought that he could so accurately gauge her resources without any System interface was unsettling, even for someone as analytical as herself.

"It's not that hard to do if you have the right mindset and the correct knowledge." He made it sound like a trivial matter, like adding numbers in a ledger. His casual tone belied the complexity of what he had just revealed.

The four women looked on with a mix of confusion and unease. Carmen was the first to break the heavy silence, her mind piecing together the implications of Searanox's keen observation. "How exactly are you calculating mana consumption without any System interface showing that kind of data?" Her fingers unconsciously tightened around her staff, as if seeking stability in this new revelation.

"I asked all of you to tell me your skills when you got your classes. I asked for details, and you all provided them. From there, I used a simple calculation to discern an average cost of skills, then multiplied that number by the skill's level—which is just a division of your overall level by five. In the end, you get something like nine times five for Iris. As for her total mana and regeneration, that's a different point entirely. I know she has about a thousand mana and a regeneration of around ten." Searanox explained the math with casual gestures of his hands. The simplicity of his explanation contrasted sharply with the sheer complexity of what he had accomplished on the fly.

They all fell silent as he took a seat in his chair, his posture relaxed despite the tension in the air. He hadn't just been fighting inside the Molten Core—he had been analyzing them all simultaneously. On top of that, he made it sound so simple, as if tracking someone's mana consumption was as natural as breathing. The implications were staggering. If he could track mana this precisely, what else could he calculate? How deeply had he been monitoring all of them?

"Does that mean you know how much mana everyone has just by watching them?" Carmen asked, unfolding a blanket with deliberate slowness. Her eyes never left Searanox's face, searching for any sign that might reveal the true extent of his capabilities. The soft rustle of the fabric seemed unnaturally loud in the tense silence that had fallen over their small group.

"No. There are too many unknowns. The base stats aren't much of a factor since they only increase by one or two per level depending on your class. But the gear you wear is a much bigger problem. A mana ring looks like any other ring—just a simple band of silver." Searanox paused, his gaze sweeping across their small group as they absorbed this revelation. "If I wanted to know what kind of ring it was, I would need to study it extensively. And even then, who has time for that in the heat of battle?" He gestured with one hand toward their accessories. "A person can wear eight rings in total, and each provides a wide range of stats and buffs. Let's put it like this: a simple ring gives you twenty-five mana, while an intermediate one gives you a hundred, and a minor gives you fifty," Searanox said while bringing out a plate of cooked fish, its steam curling upward in the cool morning air.

"They all look the same, and they can have all sorts of combinations. There is no way of knowing precisely, and that applies to us right now. Later on, they will have even more powerful rings. I am not omniscient," he added before taking the first bite of his fish. His movements were deliberate, as if demonstrating the practicality of refueling over theoretical concerns.

Sarah had stopped listening halfway through, her attention drawn to the way the light caught the edges of her own rings. Lana had tried to follow along but eventually gave up as he began to run the numbers, her expression gradually glazing over with mathematical overload. The only ones paying real attention were Carmen and Iris. They sat on the blanket, the food before them smelling of herbs and fire, but neither of them touched it as they listened, their minds racing with the implications of his words.

Iris was the one to break the silence. Her silver eyes reflected the morning light as she finally reached for her meat. "If you knew my mana levels, then you should know that I still have enough to clear the dungeon, even if I am at fifty percent." Her voice carried a hint of challenge, her tail twitching slightly behind her.

"Even if you were able to beat the boss, that would leave you in a condition that would prevent you from entering the next dungeon with the four of them." Searanox's response was immediate, his tone firm but not unkind. "And then you'd have to take a break twice as long while the four of them waited on you to recover. Just sit still and recover. Take an hour," Searanox said, pointing his greasy fingers at her. A slight smile played on his lips as he took another bite of fish, chewed thoughtfully, then continued, "Besides, I have plans for them while you are in there."

What he just said caught the attention of all of them, their heads turning in perfect unison toward him. The casual mention of having 'plans' for them during Iris's dungeon run hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Carmen's fingers tightened around her staff as she exchanged worried glances with Lana and Vanessa, the remnants of their earlier meal growing cold on their plates.

"What do you mean by plans for us?" Lana asked in a low tone, her voice barely above a whisper. Her blue eyes darted between Searanox's impassive face and the other women, searching for some clue as to what lay behind his enigmatic statement. The morning light caught the nervous tic in her jaw as she waited for his response.

Searanox watched them for a long moment, his dark eyes calculating as they assessed each woman's reaction. The faint smile playing at his lips did little to reassure them. "It's nothing dangerous. I simply have some work for you while Iris clears the dungeon." He paused, taking another deliberate bite of fish before continuing. "I could do it by myself, but that would take a long time, and I don't want to waste more time than needed on it when I've got four capable helpers right in front of me."

"Like what?" Vanessa said, her voice sharp with frustration as she put down her own half-eaten salad. "Can you, for once, not speak in secrets and just tell us what you want from us?" Her dark eyes flashed with defiance as she stared at him, challenging his deliberate obscurity.

"Nah, where would the fun be in that?" Searanox said with a genuine smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a bottle of sweet tea from his storage ring, the amber liquid swirling invitingly within the plastic bottle. The condensation beaded on its surface, catching the sunlight like tiny diamonds.

After taking a long swig, he set the bottle down with a soft thud on the grass beside his chair. "You don't have to look so tense," he added, his gaze sweeping across their stiff postures and wary expressions.

"The last time you said you'd take us somewhere 'fun,' we were stuck for days in some pocket space out of time," Vanessa said in a harsh tone, her voice rising with remembered frustration. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her knees, the memory of that endless, featureless void clearly still fresh in her mind.

"Oh, right, yeah. We will do that again quite soon," Searanox replied with a casualness that sent a shiver down Carmen's spine. His eyes crinkled at the corners as if recalling a pleasant memory, completely oblivious—or perhaps deliberately ignorant—to their discomfort.

"No, we won't... I won't sit in that place again with nothing to do while you sleep." Vanessa's voice trembled slightly with suppressed emotion, the thought of returning to that timeless void clearly affecting her more than she wanted to admit.

"I don't remember asking for your permission." Searanox's voice was as flat and cold as steel, all pretense of friendliness vanishing in an instant. The sudden shift in tone made Lana flinch backward.

Vanessa was about to lash out at him but bit her tongue, as she restrained herself. The muscles in her jaw worked furiously as she fought back the angry retort that threatened to burst forth. Instead, she looked down at her hands, noting the slight tremor in her fingers as she fought to maintain control over her volatile emotions.